


Potion, Rare

by Failfaster



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Body Worship, Consensual Objectification, Cowgirl Position, Cuddling, Dirty Talk, Dom Caleb, Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masterbation, Mild Voice Kink, Overstimulation, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sex Negotiation, Smut, Sub Fjord, Subspace, Zemnian dirty talk, all kinks mentioned are pretty mild, consensual use of magical items, directed masterbation, mention of aftercare (that definitely happens), much kissing, novice dom/sub play, talk of bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 18:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19256617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Failfaster/pseuds/Failfaster
Summary: When you drink the Potion of Frost Giant’s Strength, your Strength score changes to 23 for 1 hour. The potion has no effect on you if your Strength is equal to or greater than that score.





	Potion, Rare

“Penny for your thoughts?” Caleb says, husky and low directly into the shell of Fjord’s ear before he gives it a poignant nip. Whether or not it works depends on the result Caleb wanted, since it only makes Fjord tilt his head back until it thumps dull against the wood of the door to allow Caleb better access to his throat. Caleb shifts half an inch closer, his arms snug against Fjord’s sides as he slides them further around his torso, and goes to back to planting opened mouth kisses on his skin. Fjord shifts his weight.

“Just thinking about how tonight could go.” He grunts, squirming under Caleb’s attention with no real intent to escape.

“Oh? Please share,” Despite himself, Fjord wants to shy away from saying it aloud; he tries to duck his head again, but Caleb is having none of it. He purposely puts his head right under Fjord’s chin, almost like how Frumpkin would headbutt someone for kisses. The feeling of tongue and teeth brushing his adams apple sends warmth plummeting straight down to Fjord’s groin, “Well--hrm...er…”

Someone else might tease Fjord for being so bashful about voicing his fantasies, but Caleb finds it’s a lot more cruel to be patient and let Fjord’s own discomfort and desperation battle until the later overcomes the former. While he waits, he teases; running his hands lightly over the skin on Fjord’s lower back and sides, prodding at the top of his trousers with his fingertips, and nudging his nose sweetly against the dark marks he’s already sucked into his shoulders and neck as he nuzzles against Fjord’s jaw.

Fjord doesn’t keep him waiting long. He’s raised a hand to his mouth, knuckles to his lips and nose in that embarrassed way that Caleb finds absolutely adorable and looking aside to avoid eye contact, “I’m kinda hoping you’d make me feel small…” Caleb tilts his head up, but keeps his eyes down (at his work) for both their comfort’s sake. Fjord finishes with hesitation tripping him up as he mumbles “M-Maybe be a little mean about it…?”

Caleb hms once, and his feather light trailing turns into whole hands wrapping firmly around Fjord’s waist, as he pulls himself back to pressing Fjord against the door with nary an inch between them. Caleb isn’t about to let that leap of faith and bravery go unrewarded. Especially since Caleb badly needed to hear it; he needs near constant verbal affirmation to counter how annoyingly frequent his brain tries to convince him Fjord’s affection is a falsehood born of pity.

“Thank you Fjord,” Caleb says, quiet and reverend and the effect is immediate as Fjord lets out a breathe he hadn’t meant to be holding. He knows he has no reason to be anxious, Caleb has never been anything but patient and accommodating to him in the bedroom. But it’s still nice to be reassured, to be told in the most irrefutable ways that what he wants is taken into account and made a priority. He adjusts his arms so they can wrap around Caleb’s shoulders, but their height difference makes this type of a hug one that has Fjord holding Caleb’s head more than his upper torso. Caleb has never complained though, and in fact leans more of his weight against Fjord as they pause to enjoy this brief tender moment.

However, being pressed so close together means their poking their semi-hard selves against each other, so they don’t procrastinate for too long. “Funnily enough, I was thinking along the same lines,” Caleb says as he straightens his stance, making a gentlemanly gesture to straighten Fjord’s clothes as he speaks.

Fjord is glad for the lightened mood and plays back with a coy smile, “Great minds think alike,” Caleb snorts with a smirk.

“You think you’re cute,” and he rocks up on his tiptoes to plant a proper kiss to Fjord’s mouth. Their teeth click together uncomfortably more than once, which makes them giggle quietly, and their height difference again is a bit of a hindrance, but it’s still so familiar, and sweet, and it sets fire under Fjord’s skin all the way to his fingertips, so he does his best to give as good as he gets and tries not to overthink it. It isn’t until Caleb pushes his tongue into Fjord’s mouth and steals his breath away that he actually manages to stop thinking.

But Caleb, ever the tease, only gives him a moment of those deep kisses before he pulls back, drawing out a noise of protest from his partner. It just makes him smile more smugly as he wets his lips. “But perhaps, you’d like to try something new as well?”

“I’m not opposed,” Fjord says back, quietly in a way he hopes sounds sexy but makes him feel silly. Caleb seems to like it though, as he let’s Fjord duck down and steal another handful of kisses, eager tongue and blindly tilting his chin to try and get as much access of Caleb’s mouth as he can. Caleb’s hands, still on Fjord’s lapels and collar, flatten out so they’re spread over his chest a bit more and lower. “What do you have in mind?” Fjord asks when he remembers there’s more he wants to do tonight than just kiss.

Unlike Fjord, Caleb gets right to the point, “Do you recall the potion of strength from the underwater tower?”

Fjord doesn’t, and his brow furrows as he tries to recall, “Yeah, I think so.”

Caleb looks up into Fjord’s face and turns the sexy voice trick back on Fjord, “I think we should test it out. See if I can use it to make you feel small.” That phrase was put to what they do sometime when, through slow experimentation and steadily built trust, Fjord has learned he rather likes being dominated. But he’s a big man compared to humans (broader shouldered, barrel chested, with heavy muscles turned soft with chub over his belly and thighs), and Caleb is a lithe, underfed thing with noodles for limbs and a whole head shorter than him. It takes a bit of clever thinking and the implementation of some tools to achieve this effect; both of which Caleb has in abundance. “Does that sound like something you’d like to try?” The thought sets that warm gooey sensation bubbling in Fjord’s gut he recognizes and he nods a few times, with a quiet “Yes please,” when he remembers his manners.

“Good, good.” Caleb moves his hands from Fjord’s chest up to his cheeks, cupping his face in a soft tender gesture, “Now, if we’re going to do this, let’s set up some ground rules. Do you remember your words?” Fjord shrugs his right shoulder.

“Mind if we use the colors tonight? Red for stop, Green for all’s a go.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Are we using the ropes or manacles?”

Caleb’s lips twitch in a grimace as he looks away briefly, “I’d rather neither. If this is as powerful as I think it’s going to be, I don’t feel comfortable having you completely immobile,”

Fjord tilts his head back and forth in that way that implies weighing pros and cons before nodding. “Fair enough,” He trusts Caleb with this, has a dozen times over in the past, and he rather likes the restraints. But, he’ll concede to Caleb’s comfort without a fuss this round. Caleb gives him a smile and a quick kiss before pulling away, hands sliding down his face, shoulders, and arms until they take Fjord’s hands and he begins to lead him away from the door into the room proper, “Rules: No talking unless you need a color or I ask you a question. Keep your hands to yourself. You’re not allowed to touch me unless I say otherwise. You may touch yourself though, if you’d like,” Caleb likes giving Fjord agency in his own pleasure. “Do we understand each other?” Fjord affirms that he does. They go over to the desk where they’re packs were pushed, and Caleb roots around in his until he pulls out the tiny conical flask, blue-black icker swirling inside.

“This only lasts an hour, so if we’re going to do this we better be in the mood,” As he turns around, he is a bit taken about by the fact that Fjord is hurriedly standing straight, his pants in a puddle around his ankles, belt discarded completely. He’s flushed that horrid shade of violet-brown that his green skin makes under a red blush, and he is fighting a mischievous smile, feigning innocence. “I’m ready when you are,” He says with a smile, restraining a giggle.

Caleb’s surprise only lasts for as long as it takes for Fjord to explain himself, “Clearly,” Then his expression shifts, looking more like a cat that caught the canary. “Still, I think it prudent to put in a bit of work before we use the potion.” Fjord sticks out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, having his attempt at moving things along effectively qualshed. Caleb finds his eagerness endearing and exciting, and the advice is just as much for himself as it is for Fjord.  
“Now, can I get a color?”

“Green. I’d say green.”

“Good. In that case, rules are now in affect. And those are subject to change if I think of more later; so please, pay attention.” Despite how politely he phrases it, Caleb’s demeanor has shifted to demanding and intimidating. Voice pitched lower, tone no-nonsense. Blood rushes down to Fjord’s nethers just from the intensity of Caleb’s persona, and Fjord nods mutely and gives himself over to the scene.

Caleb pocketed the flask and takes the half a step forward to enter Fjord’s space. Fjord closes and opens his hands into loose fists, resisting the urge to reach out for him. The human spends an agonizingly long minute just looking Fjord over, up and down, undressing him with his eyes before reaching forward for the buttons on Fjord’s white shirt. All the while he’s muttering little praises and compliments under his breath in Zemnian (since Fjord hears how handsome and beautiful he is often in Common, but doesn’t actually listen). He pulls open Fjord’s shirt, but doesn’t push it off his shoulders like Fjord hopes he will. Instead he just slips his hands inside, finding a nipple for each and playing with them. Fjord’s breathe hitches, but he stays good, stays quiet, stays still, and is quickly rewarded with pinches and twists until his nipples perk hard.

Fjord has an idea, and despite being more-than-a-little distracted, he puts a little thought into making sure it doesn’t break the rules before coming to the decision. He pulls both arms behind himself, maneuvering so he can reach the sleeves of his shirt and shucks it off himself. Caleb isn’t distracted from his task, but he does watch intently as Fjord struggles with himself a moment. Once that’s gone Fjord tries to push his smalls down his legs too, but he only makes it part way before Caleb’s hands push back to keep him up right. Fjord huffs and then whimpers as Caleb gives a particularly mean tug.

“Cay-”

“Shh,” Caleb tisks harshly, his fingers traveling further along his body, “You’re doing very well. Behave,” A direct order like that pushes Fjord further into the hazy fog of the scene, putting his head into that warm fluffy space above the clouds where it’s comfortable to just do as Caleb says and wants. Still, his newly freed cock is aching for attention and Fjord isn’t as patient as Caleb is; after a second’s hesitation he reaches between them and gives his dick a wrap-around, messaging it between his fingers gently before stroking it with as much self-control as he can muster.

This only goes on for a little while longer, Caleb teasing all over belly and chest, Fjord’s whimpering and masterbating, until Caleb becomes infected with Fjord’s impatience. All at once, Caleb grabs a hold of his waist and as roughly as a 5’10’’ handful-of-stones weighing guy can turns them around so Fjord is pressed against the desk, trapped between it and Caleb as the ginger bends him over the furniture. Fjord gasps and lets out a quiet moan at the manhandling, spreading his legs as far as the underwear around his knees will allow him. The obscene stance combined with the fact that, for all intents and purposes he’s naked save for his socks and boots while Caleb is still completely dressed behind him sends a wave of embarrassment through him that makes his cock twitch.

Caleb watches Fjord flush all over as he guides his head down to the desk by the back of his neck. Gods above and below, he is beautiful, and Caleb mutters it quietly as he gives the swell of Fjord’s ass a sudden harsh grope, clutching the muscle and fat as he pushes himself down onto Fjord’s back, his mouth at his ear. Hips to hip so Fjord can feel the growing erection Caleb is sporting. Fjord jumps, an “Aha-!” at it as Caleb puts his mouth to the shell of Fjord’s ear. “[Look at you]” Caleb rocks his hips lazily and whispers huskily, “[You are so pretty when you take care of yourself like you were. But now? It’s absolutely gorgeous watching you writhe like this.]” As he talks he wriggles one hand down between Fjord’s cheek and begins to rub a few fingers over his entrance.

Fjord moans, scrambling to put his hand over his mouth in a vain attempt to quiet down as he pushes back into Caleb. He isn’t particularly fond of dirty talk, but this is different. He can’t understand Caleb, can only interpret his tone and touches as meaning, and that makes it not just better, but it’s damn near driving him crazy. He begins moving his hips back and forth, grinding his bare ass onto Caleb’s hand as he ducks his head down onto his arms, hiding his face and panting wetly. “Fuck,” he’s already so far gone and they’ve only just started.

Caleb suddenly pulls away and Fjord nearly cries, the sudden lack of contact and stimulation is so unexpected. “No. Talking.” He doesn’t spare Fjord a glance as he goes back to digging in his pack quickly.

Fjord opens his mouth to apologize, but thinks better of it. Caleb would count that as talking wouldn’t he. He bites down on his lip, keening as his breath grows a little ragged with his need. He’s so desperate, he needs something in him-anything will do-! Caleb technically didn’t tell him not to move…

He tremblingly reaches back behind himself and runs his fingers along his own entrance, barely pressing past the ring of muscle with a single fingertip to relax himself. He’s honest-to-go debating a single dry finger when a hand takes his wrist. He cranes his neck to look over his shoulder at Caleb.

“Color?” Caleb says, just a shade back to uncertain. Fjord tampts that shit out real quick-  
“Green. Green-fucking shit, Caleb please don’t leave me hanging, I need you to touch me.”

“I am touching you,” He says as his thumb rubs against his wrist. Fjord sobs a little in frustration, turning back to faceplant against the desk, smooshing his cheek to the wood. He hears Caleb chuckle and then suddenly there’s the soft clink of glass meeting wood near his ear. He glances up, sees their bottomless jar of oil and follows the hand on it up to Caleb’s face. He’s leaning over again, a hand combing through Fjord’s hair as he taps the jar with a finger with a smirk.

“If I’m not up to your standards, show me how you want to be touched.”

Fjord doesn’t have to be told twice, and with an eagerness that might be embarrassing if he cared, he reaches forward and plunges his fingers into the container, coating two fingers and setting to work.

He doesn’t bother with slow or steady, just puts all his focus into the stretch and full feeling. Caleb goes back and forth between watching Fjord’s face and leaning back to watch the show, all the while running his hands through Fjord’s hair to keep it out of his eyes and scritch the short sides comfortingly. He encourages Fjord with more Zemnian, quiet muttering and occasional common instructions to “Relax,” or “Add another.” Fjord bites his lip, tries to muffle himself by planting his mouth into his arm, but when three fingers isn’t enough, Caleb tells him to “Use both hands,” so he reaches back to plunge his other index finger along side at Caleb’s behest.

Fjord is up to five fingers and noisily slurping up his drool between his panting by the time Caleb finally bids, “That’s enough,” He stands and moves behind Fjord, taking his wrists and gently easing his hands away. Fjord hisses, an uncomfortable ache left as his asshole tries to clench down on nothing. “Would you stand up for me, please?” He plants his hands on the desk to help and does so slowly. Caleb is just as rough as he was the first time as he spins Fjord back around, this time to face him. He doesn’t give Fjord enough time to catch his breath before he’s stealing it with rough, hungry kisses. Fjord tries to focus on the feel of Caleb’s tongue delving in as deeply as the man can stretch it, teeth scraping and nipping as Fjord’s drool disgustingly mingles with Caleb’s beard.

But the fact that Caleb is pushing his very empty-ass back against the edge of the desk is a near painful reminder that is very difficult to ignore. Fjord is begging as much as he can with his mouth occupied and coherent thought as graspable as soap in the tub. But he manages, between pleases and gasping Caleb’s name, to beg for cock and promise he’s ready, that he’s been good, so good, he needs his r e w a r d.

Caleb keeps pushing, pressing their bodies flush together. A hand over Fjord’s thigh motioning for the man to sit on the desk, which he does, spreading his legs to wrap them around Caleb’s waist and keep him there, ankles crossed. Caleb wrestles with his pants until the vial of potion is produced once more and without any panache or showmanship he uncorks it and downs it in a single swig. Fjord rests his arms on Caleb’s shoulders, hands dangling behind his head as they kiss again, the alien-sharp taste of arcane flavoring Caleb’s lips. The ginger wriggles his hands until they’re firmly wedged under Fjord’s thighs, testingly squeezing and shifting every so often to see if the effects have kicked in yet. The anticipation for the magic co-mingles with his desperation to get fucked, and the needy concoction is a heady, difficult thing to think past. It makes him shiver, and all that frantic energy is building up; he’s already so close, a hand on him would send him over the edge-

Caleb will later insist only six seconds passed, but as far as Fjord’s concerned it takes years for that thing to kick in. But it’s all made worth it when suddenly, the next flex of Caleb’s hands on his thighs sends him up into the air. And with a lot more force than either of them are expecting. He’s practically tossed, his body momentarily weightless before he bounces back down into Caleb’s arms, both of them momentarily scrambling to find purchase on each other. The Ginger’s eyes are bugging, he’s so surprised by how he’s thrown Fjord up like one hoists up an infant. He takes half a stumble back from the desk, trying to catch more of Fjord’s weight and anticipating being toppled with it. But he isn’t. Fjord sits as comfortable in his arms as Frumpkin might. He looks into Fjord’s face, and only realizes as an afterthought his hands have groped roughly into Fjord’s inner thigh and ass cheek in an attempt to find better hand holds, squeezing needlessly. Fjord isn’t exactly complaining though.

“Holy-Holy shit! Caleb! Caleb-” Fjord is chanting, his hands clinging to the back of Caleb’s head, fingers tugging red hair, toes curling, and Fjord is a little ashamed to admit, “I’m about-to come. I’m gonna, fucking-shit-!” He keens when Caleb’s fingers squeeze experimentally and the feeling affirms the realization: Fjord suddenly feels very, very small. It’s the same molten arousal that bubbles over when he tugs at manacles around his wrists, or when his mouth is too occupied with Caleb for a breath. But rather than the slow build up, the playing pretend, and the additional tools and toy it usually takes, the powerlessness of the new situation is immediate and so strong that it pushes Fjord to almost coming all over the both of them.

“Whoa, easy-easy.” Caleb pleads, readjusting his hands and arms so Fjord is sitting almost like a swing on his forearms, the crook of Fjord’s knees bent into the crook of Caleb’s elbow so his legs dangle behind. Fjord clumsily rehooks his ankles, rocking his hips so his cock ruts into Caleb’s belly (the bastard is still dressed!) he’s so close, he wants to come so badly it’s actually painful, but Caleb’s arms squeeze his legs in warning; Fjord’s desperate behavior isn’t deterred, so when then doesn’t work, he moves to hold Fjord up with one arm-one arm! the other slides up Fjord’s backside until it’s at the small of his back, and he presses until there isn’t any room left to wiggle. He doesn’t mean to be rough, but the way Fjord gasps and practically melts as he falls flush to Caleb’s chest, he clearly wasn’t gentle either. He’s a lot stronger than he realizes, and some part of him takes note that he needs to be aware of that, but most of that power goes straight to his head(s).

“Hey,” He intentionally puts force into his tone, a harshness that gravels his voice and deepens his pitch a bit. A pause. “Hey,” a bit gentler but not much. It works though; the nervous energy bleeds out of Fjord until he’s relaxed in Caleb’s arms, letting the shorter man take all his weight as he follows Caleb’s lead to take deep, calming breaths. Caleb smiles, pride in Fjord and the trust they share making his chest puff out a bit with his next intake of air. Fjord returns the smile, a bit more hesitantly out of shyness but just as genuine. “Color?” Caleb asks.

Another deep breath, “Still very green,”

“Oh, good, good. I’m glad. Having fun?”

“Uh, yeah! This was a very good idea,” His hand scritches at the nape of Caleb’s neck, fingers combing through the hair there as his smile grows.

“Thank you. I’m glad you’re enjoying it too.” Caleb kisses him, chaste and gentle, and Fjord’s hands come to gently cup Caleb’s face in his hands as he helps guide the kiss. It’s very slow, and lacks the heat of moments before, but it’s so much sweeter Fjord can’t find he minds.

Fjord loses a bit of time then, getting lost in the moment of tenderness, because one second he’s being kissed like he’s the most precious treasure in the world, and the next he becomes aware of hands digging back into the fat of his ass, hoisting him up a bit before dragging him back down to grind against Caleb’s groin. He gasps and whines into Caleb’s mouth. The smug prick just smirks and continues to try and kiss Fjord sweetly while he repeats the motion until they’re both fully hard again.

It doesn’t take long for the passionate heat to return in full force, with Fjord unraveling under Caleb, clinging to him as the ginger turns and carries him over to the bed. Once there, in one smooth motion he turns on his heels and sits back on the bed with Fjord in his lap. He lets gravity do most of the work, so it’s less sitting and more falling onto the mattress, which results in the furniture squeaking loudly in protest. That only spurs Caleb on more, a bit of an ego boost as he shimmies a little further back on the bed, laying flat.

“Caleb...C-Cay...baby please...I..I wanna-”

 

“I want to be inside you Fjord,” Caleb interrupts, and Fjord’s hands wrap and cling to Caleb’s lapels, “Yes, yes please!” He begs. Caleb raising his hips a bit and pushing his hands past Fjord to wrestle his pants down; and the motion nearly bucks Fjord off. He shouts in surprise as he’s has to brace his hands on Caleb’s chest to keep from nose diving into his sternum. “Heh-Holy shit” He chuckles, immediately sitting back down and wiggling backwards until he feels Caleb’s bare cock against his seat, jutting up to attention. Fjord keens at the feel of it, reaching behind himself (and only briefly conceding to Caleb for his foresight to open him up so thoroughly) and guide it between his cheeks as he rocks his hips back. He hums happily as Caleb goads him on.

“Go on. You’ve been so good, done so well. I won’t keep it from you any longer. Take what you’d like, Fjord.”

Fjord gives a full body shudder at that, going up on his knees and fumbles clumsily behind himself to push the head of Caleb’s cock into his entrance. Feeling the slight burn as it stretches him is bliss. He sinks down slowly until he’s fully seated, and even then takes a minute to relax and take deep breaths before dropping all his weight back onto Caleb’s hips as his eyes flutter shut.

The human has moved his hands to Fjord’s thighs, helping guide him down.

“Feels good?”

“Uh-huh…” Fjord manages eloquently, nodding and shifting his weight left to right to test the rock of his hips. It feels so wonderful, to have all of Caleb inside him at long last, taking up all his focus. Fjord’s a little lost in the sensation as waits for permission to start moving.

Caleb has to pause to take a moment, sliding his hands up and around Fjord’s waist to rub soothing circles there with his thumb. It feels so good, a snug heat that squeezes every time Fjord’s muscles twitch to clamp down on him. Arousal is skittingering just under his skin like a comfortable drunkenness. But the physical sensations are small potatoes to the heady nature of their roles. For one, Fjord is a breathtaking sight over him, and Caleb wishes he could keep him like this forever: relaxed, comfortable in his skin, his attention only for what feels right (the last of which is normal but between them it’s a different flavor of gunpowder). These risk reward illusions they play into are just close enough to some dangerous line they both crave to walk along, and while they still can’t say they really trust each other outside of these circumstances, Caleb is almost always getting off more on the dynamic of their risky behavior and the blind leaps in faith they require in each other, as opposed to the sex on its own. Right now, he’s hyper aware of that, and lets his mind reel with it for a moment.

But only a moment. He’s getting impatient after all.

“Ready to move?”

“Y-Yeah. Yes, I’m ready, more than ready, please, let’s fuck already.”

“You’re cute when your impatient. I love it.” ...I love you. Fjord swivels his hips back and forth, then in little circles, getting a little rougher with impatience. “Okay?”

Fjord nods, wetting his lips and whispering a harsh ‘yes.’ Fjord raises himself up a bit, ready to to re-familiarize himself with the rhythm they usually can manage when Fjord rides Caleb cowgirl style. However, Caleb’s hands on his waist, which normally can only help guide Fjord’s movement, suddenly take a very firm hold as Caleb again literally picks Fjord up, almost entirely off Caleb’s cock, before pulling him back down again with the same force.

“HOLY FUCK!?” Fjord nearly screams it.

“You okay?” Caleb asks, and this time there is no trying to placate Fjord’s surprise, only a smug twinkle in Caleb’s eyes and sly cleverness to his breathless smile. 

“Do that again,” Caleb doesn’t even comment on the sudden bossiness of Fjord’s tone, only obeys his command. And obeys over and over and over. He starts by trying to keep the pace slower; readjusting his handhold, shifting his hips so they can buck in time, and experimenting with how high he can pull Fjord up versus how hard he can pull the man back down. Once he gets a hang of his strength, he lets control slip, lets feeling drive his actions, and starts to use Fjord faster.

Fjord is little more than a cock-sleeve at the moment and he’s loving every second of it. It might be because he knows Caleb isn’t doing it just for his own pleasure; Caleb’s first priority is Fjord’s, and he’s kept it that from the moment they started. Or maybe it has to do with just how tiny this makes him feel, completely at the mercy of someone else. Or it might be that Fjord’s inability to resist is voluntary, and that he could stop this at any moment if he so chose. But all of these are thoughts, which Fjord has very little room for at the moment; all his attention is a bit preoccupied with being fucked. Eventually he stops trying to help with his legs at all, relaxing completely until he slowly slumps forward, fighting to stay up right the whole way but ultimately failing. He’s open mouthed panting, drool is pooling onto Caleb’s chest, then collar bone. Caleb readjusts for their new position, but it hardly falters his pace and Fjord moans, loud, with fewer and fewer words of encouragement until his speech dissolves entirely into desperate noises that can only be categorized in their activity’s context. His hands curl into Caleb’s opened shirt, scraping a bit against fuzzy chest and he can only hang on for the ride.

Caleb’s isn’t even breaking a sweat; so it’s easy to turn his head towards Fjord, nudging and nuzzling until the man’s face is pressed into his throat, still panting and whining loud and unabated. Caleb turns his face further until he can get his mouth back at Fjord’s ear, where he snarls and growls sharply, “[You’re so beautiful. Especially like this. I love how handsome you look seated on me. You want my cock so badly, look how desperate for it you are. To be filled, to be fucked. I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you literally in my arms right now.]”

Caleb’s chest under Fjord’s closed fists is rising and falling rapidly, quick hard breathes that tell him Caleb’s close too. He’s also talking into his ear again, in the low-toned filthy Zemnian that really gets Fjord’s gears going, and it pushes him over to that edge he’s been so dangerously close to. He tries stuttering out a warning, to tell Caleb he’s about to come, but he only manages a slurred, “C-ccay-..caahh-!” Before the vowel turns into a scream as he comes, the seed flinging messily between as the human continues to pound into him through his orgasm. All his senses are lost to the white fire under his skin, trembling all over as his vision is lost to stars.

Caleb’s heart soars as he watches Fjord come but he doesn’t stop thrusting. If it wasn’t the muscles inside of Fjord clenching down on him as he came, it was the sight of Fjord at the mercy of his pleasure that finally finished Caleb off. His rhythm stutters as his own orgasm made it difficult to focus, but it was a task made effortless by the potion’s magic. Once the moment has passed, and there’s no more spend to be spilt, Caleb pulls Fjord down, tucking him into chest as he pants for air, clinging to him as they both reach their apex and begin the slow descent back down.

After a moment, Caleb lifts Fjord off him, spent cock slipping out to hang lazily between his legs as he lowers Fjord back down to sit on his hips. According to his internal clock, they still have about 27 minutes before Caleb’s incredible strength will wear off, so they’ll take a few minutes to calm down before Caleb makes them get cleaned up.

Caleb hadn’t been entirely aware of how roughly he’d been gripping onto Fjord’s sides until he let go; he feels a twinge of guilt, and rubs his hands open palms over the spots that are sure to bruise purple gently in apology. Fjord is still catching his breath, panting hard and wet into Caleb’s neck. Caleb’s hands move to rub Fjord’s back, up and down, small circles, hushing him gently as he nuzzles his cheek into Fjord’s cheek.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright. You’re alright, I’ve got you. I’ve still got you...you’re so good. You did so good. My good boy. My big, good boy. It felt so good, you feel so good Fjord. So good.” By the time he’s done whispering these sweet nothings into Fjord’s ears, the half-orc has calmed down some, breathing normally as he shifts his weight left and right atop him. Caleb plants a kiss directly to the little bit of cheek he has access to, smiling and rubbing the end of his nose there affectionately. He can spot Fjord smiling as he chuckles and turns into Caleb, planting his face directly into Caleb’s neck to hide shyly. He adjusts his weight again, this time so he can stretch his legs out, tangling them with Caleb’s as he stretches out flat on his belly, half on top of his human. Caleb chuckles, wrappings his arms more securely around his partner and snuggling in. 

They stay like that for a few more minutes, Caleb still rubbing Fjord’s back, petting his hair, and Fjord beginning to run his fingers in mindless circles over Caleb’s chest. “Was it good for you?” Fjord mutters in good humor, and they both half-heartedly laugh.

“Hmm, very good,” Caleb promises with a hum and another kiss, this time to the hairline nearest Fjord’s temple, that little patch of white hair that is so, so handsome. Caleb pulls away a bit and asks, “And yourself? How’re you feeling?”

Thankfully, Fjord gets the hint and pulls away too, just enough that they can make eye contact. “Sore. But the good kind.” Caleb gives him a smile, purposeful as he leans in to give Fjord a kiss square on the mouth. “And maybe,” Fjord confesses between one kiss and the next, “a little sticky. Kinda gross.”

One of Caleb’s hand cups the back of Fjord’s head, scratching gently, “That’s to be expected.” Fjord hums and looks away again. “I take it you’re ready to get cleaned up then?” Caleb prompts, but Fjord just wrinkles his nose, making a sour face as he reburries his face into the junction where Caleb’s neck meets his shoulder. Caleb laughs again as Fjord answers, muffled, “Yes but no.”

“Alright then.” Fjord’s arms encircle Caleb in a hug as thanks. “Five more minutes, then we’ll move.”

__________________________________________________________________________

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone else remember that potion they got back in Fjord's Ukatoa Arc?
> 
> Much thanks to Jade (NebulousKiwi) for beta’ing


End file.
